The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-08-06

"sAfraid of what?' I cried. "TheS
clergyman and the steamer are waiting
Do run up and change your dress. You
can do it in half an hour. Go at once, but
hurryr
"Then began the most singular scene be-
tween u.s. could not make out for long
time what had made her change her mind;
it was not mere capriciousness. Atlength
the truth dawned upon me in its full hor-
ror, and was dumb. Would you believe
it? She could not satisfy herself that l
was not marrying her for her money!
"Why didn't you tell her that you need
have nothing to do with it ?" cried MarstUn
quickly.
$50 | did-as soon as 1 could recover
from the shock. 1t did seem at first that
woman who could suspect you of such a
thing could not be your wife. But then,
l was infatuated. was angry enough.
"Curse your money said l. 1T has
almost ruined you now and will only stand
between us hereafter. You can deed it all
away before we get married tonight; do
what you please with it. have enough
for us to live on very modestly. What
more do you want? Don't you hate
all this heaped-up comfort about you-this
art that is not art, but kind of product of
a furnishing shop? We will live in a
studio and you can develop your talent for
painting and earn money with it.
"She clapped her hands at that and
turned to run up stairs. You ought to
have seen her with the dim hall lamp she'd
ding its peculiar light over her head and
bare shoulders, and tie food of light break
ing from her eyes. She does not look SO
well tonight"
"Well, said Marston, impatiently biting
his lips as 1 remained silent in thought,
ego on. What came of it?"
"Oh, she turned to me again and said
"But-I won't have any more Worth
dresses, nor give any dinner parties.
People won't call on me nobody will send
me flowers and bonbonnieres 7
"'Well,' said 1 impatiently, suppose
they don't Life is not dependent on din
ner parties and bonbonnieres.'
"'No,' said she, but they are things that
make life less disgusting, and one is sure of
them. Whereas on your plan-there is
nothing sure
"'Then you don't love me at all p said
I, hearing great singing in my ears and
feeling much worse than if l were dying.
"She took my hand and pressed tito her
lips. Ha! You may well fash your eyes,
my friend l have been honored, as say,
and by that glorious creature over there
But do not want to boast-I don't know
why l tell you this-I trust to your honor.
"Well, l explain it in this way. Her
mind has been so thoroughly poisoned from
her childhood up, that she cannot believe
any one is disinterested. The skeptical
spirit has become ingrained. She will
probably never marry unless she takes some
immensely rich man, whose fortune will
grayitate towards hers by that singular
force inherent in large masses, whether
they consist of money or planets and stars
Quite possibly, if she marries at all, you
have seen her husband in the dancer of a
few moments ago"
Marston was pondering deeply, and [
fancied l detected him forming a resolution
to know more of Cornelia and trr, h, luck
1t may have been mere ia, i'm
aginNd saw covetous glitter that did not
become his handsome eyes. But it was
momentary, for thought struck him as if
something were just remembered
Evan Ruyvenl Van Ruyven |" he said,
''where have l heard that name before?
1t is singular"
"If you knew the father you would not
be apt to forget him. There he comes
from the hail. He is always on the look
out for his daughter, and | believe if she
does make not brilliant marriage it will
break his old oovetous heart
"A-a-ah p said Marston, with peculiar
rising and falling tone as he caught sight
of Mr.. van Ruyven. He seemed surprised
and yet glad as if he had put together sew
eral clues that were floating about uncon-
nected in his mind some moments before
/ waited for his next word, but he con-
tented himself with regarding van Ruyven
and his daughter with superior selfsatis-
fed air.
Cornelia treated her father with more
consideration than her mother, but even to
him there was a shade of condescension
and iinpatience in her manner. Mrs. van
Ruyven was evidently discontented with
her recent proceedings, telling her husband
how she favored an unknown stranger and
snubbed the best dancer and best match in
New York. Van Ruyven, tall old man,
with long features and trick of keeping
his eyes wandering about the floor, assumed
toward his daughter an attitude almost pa
thetic. One could almost see by the move
ment of his hands that he was expostulat-
ing with her for such unseemly conduct,
but whatever arguments he used were not
sufficient to make her yield jot from her
hard and scornful look. Where we stood
Marston and I could read the domestic
squabble as if we had been close beside
them.
at is a most extraordinary thing" said
l, hoping to draw him back to a train of
thought which would make him explain
his peculiar tone of having discovered
something, "the rich are very short-sighted
if they think that poor any more than rich
men are trying to marry for money. For
my part the rich seem to me to be more
eager to add to their pile by trade, harter,
or alliances than comparatively poor people.
Van Ruyven knows that we'll enough.
The truth probably is that they grow so
covetous for more that it is not so much
the fear of getting poor son-in-law that
sways them as the desire to add TO the
family wealth"
"There are some rich men who need all
the help they can get, said Marston SEN
tentiously.
"How do you mean ?" said I, watching
van Ruyven turn away from his daughter
and step forward to meet the eligible youth,
the young man of fortune, who after sulk-
ing in the other room over Miss Cornelia's
snub, had been drawn back again by an
invisible attraction.
"Did you ever see an apple of Sodoml"
said Marston frowning darkly. Imaqine
van Ruyven such an apple, and apply the